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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/25385011">Feinted Low</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/TheOneKrafter/pseuds/TheOneKrafter'>TheOneKrafter</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Series:</b></td><td>Feinting, but it’s actually Fainting [2]</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Dragon Age: Inquisition</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Angst, F/M, Humor, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Modern Girl in Thedas, the chargers died</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-07-19</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-07-19</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-05 11:41:32</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Mature</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>6,827</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/25385011</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/TheOneKrafter/pseuds/TheOneKrafter</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>What would’ve happened if Bull didn’t come back as Bull.</p><p>(Possible Spoilers for Feinting on your Blindside, you probably shouldn’t read it as a stand-alone.)</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Dorian Pavus/Original Male Character(s), Iron Bull/Original Female Character(s)</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Series:</b></td><td>Feinting, but it’s actually Fainting [2]</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Series URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/series/1838428</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>33</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>213</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>Feinted Low</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>I have no clue if any of this is any good, I just was playing with what would’ve probably happened if the Chargers died. Some of you wanted to see it, but please be gentle??</p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>Shit. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Shit shit </span>
  <em>
    <span>shit. </span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <span>No Chargers. </span>
</p><p>
  <b>
    <em>Shit. </em>
  </b>
</p><p>
  <span>I should’ve just told him- I should’ve just </span>
  <em>
    <span>said</span>
  </em>
  <span> to not let them die no matter what-</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The one fucking time I trust the Inquisitor to make the right decision. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Fuck,” I hiss, watching the Inquisitor, Solas, Sera and Hissrad walk through the gates. Alone. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>This isn’t something I can </span>
  <em>
    <span>fix. </span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <span>Hissrad spots me, gives me a smile that’s </span>
  <em>
    <span>fake</span>
  </em>
  <span>. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>My hand is over my mouth. I’m gonna give myself away at this rate. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>He’s walking to me. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“What’s up, Jitters?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>I place a hand on his arm, slow enough for him to stop me. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I’m so sorry,” I whisper. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>His smile falters. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Nothing to be sorry about.”</span>
</p><p>
  <b>
    <em>Everything to be sorry about. Fucking everything. </em>
  </b>
</p><p>
  <span>I shake my head, eyes watery. “Don’t lie, not to me.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>God the </span>
  <em>
    <span>grief. </span>
  </em>
  <span>I can feel it. I can </span>
  <em>
    <span>feel</span>
  </em>
  <span> it. Bull died with his Chargers and what’s left is Hissrad. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Let’s not do this here, okay?” B- </span>
  <em>
    <span>Hissrad</span>
  </em>
  <span> says, gesturing his head towards the Tavern and probably his room. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>We walk silently until we’re firmly behind the door of his room, standing together. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I shouldn’t have trusted her to make the right choice, </span>
  <em>
    <span>fuck</span>
  </em>
  <span>,” I hiss, because I don’t care. It’s falling </span>
  <em>
    <span>apart. </span>
  </em>
  <span>I’ve killed Bull. I’ve killed him. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“What are you talking about Jitters-“</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“It was either you come back as Hissrad and a sleeper cell, or you come back as Bull and as yourself, and I </span>
  <em>
    <span>fucked it up</span>
  </em>
  <span> by assuming she would make the right call,” I say, pacing back and forth with shaking hands. “Oh- </span>
  <em>
    <span>the Chargers,</span>
  </em>
  <span>” I whimper, face crumpling. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“How did you know?” Bull asks, voice low. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Because I fucking know everything, and it doesn’t matter now, because my assumption that Inquisitor Lavellan would continue to make the right choices was a mis-fucking-calculation,” I say, voice breaking. “God, Jesus Christ, now I get to watch you die by </span>
  <em>
    <span>betrayal</span>
  </em>
  <span>.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Two strong hands stop my pacing, and I’m turned to face a very very unnerved Hissrad. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You </span>
  <em>
    <span>knew</span>
  </em>
  <span>?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I </span>
  <b>
    <em>failed</em>
  </b>
  <span> you, and now you’re dead,” I hiss. “Because I’m a coward who has future knowledge and couldn’t just woman up and tell the Spymaster. </span>
  <em>
    <span>Fuck me.</span>
  </em>
  <span>”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Do I look dead?” Bull- </span>
  <em>
    <span>Hissrad</span>
  </em>
  <span> asks. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You’re a tool of the Qun, nothing is left to tie you to everything else,” I say. “I’m not stupid enough to assume I can stop that.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Hissrad looks like he doesn’t know what to do, for the first time in his life. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I knew there was something off about you, but I thought you were just some noble kid who ran away,” Hissrad says. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“It doesn’t matter now, Hissrad. Iron Bull is dead, and you’re going to die in a failed Qunari invasion, and I don’t think I’ll live long enough to see it,” I say, trembling, because all of this was for nothing. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Crumbling with the first failure, I am a coward. A dead one, now. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You’re not making sense, Jane,” Hissrad hisses. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“What part don’t you understand?” I bite back. “I knew what could happen before it did, and I was stupid enough to think a little statement before you left could nudge you in the right direction.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Why didn’t you just tell me?!” Hissrad shouts. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>I shrink, but bare my teeth through my tears.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Because I’m a </span>
  <em>
    <span>coward. </span>
  </em>
  <span>And now you will pay the price for it.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Hissrad takes his hands off me roughly and looks like he’s looking for something to throw. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>I drop into a crouch, sobbing. Krem, Dalish, Stitches, Grim- </span>
  <em>
    <span>dead. </span>
  </em>
  <span>Horns fucking pointed up. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I should’ve just died at the Conclave, I would’ve been just as fucking- </span>
  <em>
    <span>as fucking useful</span>
  </em>
  <span>,” I whimper. “I’m sorry, Bull, I’m so so </span>
  <em>
    <span>sorry.</span>
  </em>
  <span>”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Something slams into the wall, nowhere near me. I wonder if Bull- </span>
  <b>
    <em>Hissrad</em>
  </b>
  <span> will kill me or if Leliana will milk me for all the information I have first. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Shit, </span>
  <em>
    <span>shit</span>
  </em>
  <span>, </span>
  <b>
    <em>shit!</em>
  </b>
  <span>” Hissrad growls, I don’t look up to see what he’s doing. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“They wouldn’t want you to die for the stupid fucking Qun,” I say, because why not at this point. “They </span>
  <em>
    <span>loved</span>
  </em>
  <span> you. Just remember that when I get tossed to Leliana.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Oh god, I can’t let anyone know about Solas, that’d make things worse. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“</span>
  <b>
    <em>Fuck!</em>
  </b>
  <span>” Hissrad shouts. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>I wonder how much the Tavern can hear. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>I’m sitting with my knees pulled up to my face, like a fucking </span>
  <em>
    <span>baby. </span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <span>Stupid Inquisition. Stupid Dragon Age. </span>
  <b>
    <em>Stupid</em>
  </b>
  <span> Lavellan. I’m probably the stupidest. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Hissrad is panting heavily. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I die for the Qun?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>I look up with watery eyes. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Two and a half years from now, there’s an attempted invasion. You’re called in to fight the Inquisitor and her party to keep them from disrupting the Qun’s plans. She kills you, and you say “Sorry, Bas, nothing personal.” You don’t die regretting it,” I say feeling horrible. That’s already understood though, right? That I feel horrible? That my stomach is gonna be sick, that I hope I choke on my tears? Useless fucking tears. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Hissrad flexes and unflexes his fingers, looking down at me, and I know intimately that while Bull wouldn’t hurt me, Hissrad would for the Qun. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“If you kill me, just don’t choke me, okay?” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“What the </span>
  <em>
    <span>fuck</span>
  </em>
  <span>, Jane.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Did I stutter?” I bite out. “If you’re going to kill me, make it quick and don’t choke me. Hissrad will do anything for the Qun, and you certainly didn’t come back as Bull.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>I asked him a simple thing, a simple simple thing. Come back as </span>
  <em>
    <span>Bull. </span>
  </em>
  <span>Come back with the Chargers. </span>
  <b>
    <em>Christ. </em>
  </b>
</p><p>
  <span>Suddenly, all the fight seems to drain out of Bull- fuck, </span>
  <b>
    <em>Hissrad</em>
  </b>
  <span>, and he sits down heavily in front of me. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I’m not going to kill you.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>You should. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You should.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“The </span>
  <em>
    <span>Inquisitor</span>
  </em>
  <span> chose to ally with the Qun.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“And she’s made a stupid ass fucking mistake, which isn’t surprising considering she’s with fucking </span>
  <em>
    <span>Solas</span>
  </em>
  <span>,” I hiss, wiping my eyes with the palms of my hands. “I’d rather you kill me than whatever Leliana will do. It wouldn’t look good for the future Divine to have killed a serving girl slowly.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“This is explaining a lot,” Hissrad says darkly. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“What, my constant anxiety about being around people I know more intimately than myself?” I ask, snark showing up again, as it does. “Worrying about Cole being able to hear my hurts because all my hurts center around getting you people killed through inaction?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>We’re silent for a few moments. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“How do you know what the Chargers would want?” His voice is clinical. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Because their last thoughts were, “He’ll save us, horns pointed up,”,” I whisper. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Grief in his face. Grief grief grief. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>He closes his eye, breathes in, then out. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I don’t know what to do, here, Jane,” Bull says, because fuck it he looks like Bull, might as well call him it before I get offed. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I would’ve said going Tal’Vashoth, but you won’t choose it without the Chargers,” I say blankly. “I’m not self centered enough to assume I’m enough to convince you to do what’s good for you.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“If I called a retreat, they would’ve…”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Lived. No Qunari alliance, but they would’ve lived, you would’ve been Iron Bull, Tal’Vashoth, agent of the Inquisition. It would’ve been the happier, kinder choice,” I say. “Lavellan made her first wrong choice, and now I’m worried for Blackwall’s continued survival as well.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“What happens to Blackwall?” Bull asks. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“He’s not a Warden, he’s a criminal who’s spent years repenting for his sins. One of his old men is going to be put up for execution soon, and he’ll go to take his place. The Inquisitor can choose to leave him to his fate, or bring him back into the Inquisition,” I explain. I’m definitely ruining everything, now. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Shit you really know? How can you just </span>
  <em>
    <span>know</span>
  </em>
  <span>?” Bull asks, sounding a lot like Sera with that wording. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“A mystery for the goddamn ages,” I say wetly.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>I tuck my face back into my knees. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I’m not-“ Bull stops himself and takes a deep breath. “I’m not going to hurt you, Jitters.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Don’t fucking </span>
  <em>
    <span>lie</span>
  </em>
  <span> to me,” I say, looking up, expression fierce. “</span>
  <em>
    <span>Do not lie. </span>
  </em>
  <span>I’ve ruined your fucking future, god, even by </span>
  <em>
    <span>fucking you</span>
  </em>
  <span> I ruined shit.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Bull just looks sad. I don’t know if I even believe that. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>I then realize, vividly, that my pity party matters </span>
  <em>
    <span>not at fucking all</span>
  </em>
  <span> and Bull has just lost his everything. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>I lean forward, slowly, and give him a hug. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“This isn’t about me. You just lost your family, and I am sorry.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“The Qun doesn’t have families,” Bull says, quietly, without inflection. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You did. I’m a poor replacement, but I can hold you,” I mutter. “A thousand I’m sorrys won’t make them come back, and it won’t make you hurt less. All I can say is I understand.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Self centered fuck, losing it when he just needed someone to hold him. This isn’t about fucking </span>
  <em>
    <span>you</span>
  </em>
  <span>, christ. I’m horrible. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>He’s limp in my arms, but his face bows into my shoulder, and he lets out a shuddering sigh. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>I’m not enough, but this isn’t about me. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I suppose if there’s no one else, I’ll say it,” I murmur, voice wet. “I love you, I’m here for you, even if you’re a sleeper cell in wait.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Bull shakes against my shoulder, and I can’t tell if it’s laughter or tears, but that’s fine. It’s fine. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>It’s not. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>—</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He doesn’t say anything to the Spymaster. I wipe my tears and go on like everything is normal. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I’m sorry about the Chargers, Jane.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>I give Revis a weak smile. “I’m more worried for Bull.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Hissrad. Bull. Now it’s all muddled, thanks to me. He can’t be one or the other thanks to my word vomit, still just as conflicted. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>He feels too much and now he’s wrapping himself in lies to compensate. I hate it. I don’t have the right to but I stick as close as I can, careful comforts. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>He didn’t deserve this. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You don’t have to, Jitters.” Still with the nickname, a try at normalcy. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I do, and I want to,” I say, settling in a chair beside him in the tavern. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Every second fucking hurts.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>—</span>
</p><p>
  <span>We still have sex. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>I don’t know </span>
  <em>
    <span>why</span>
  </em>
  <span>, it’s all fucked up, everything is fucked up, and too many drinks, and-</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“</span>
  <em>
    <span>Katoh,</span>
  </em>
  <span>” I hiss, and for a second, I’m scared Hissrad won’t listen, but Bull backs off immediately, and so we’re sitting there naked on his bed because nothing is normal anymore and I’m scared. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Not for myself, just. Scared. I’m scared for everything. For him. For what’s in our future. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>I run a shaky hand down my face, take a deep breath. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I don’t think this is good for us,” Bull says, carefully, quietly. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“None of this is good for us. I can’t stand to be here anymore,” I say just as quiet. I’m tearing up. “What’s the Qun’s orders for you? Keep acting like everything is normal?” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Bull nods. He shouldn’t. He shouldn’t be telling me shit. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“</span>
  <em>
    <span>Fuck that,</span>
  </em>
  <span>” I say. “Fuck all of this.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Suddenly, I’m hit with the worst idea ever. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>That, I think, would make me the worst MGIT. Running. Running with a plot important character.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>I can’t. </span>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>I fucking can. </span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <span>I look up fully at Bull, wiping a stray tear. He looks so carefully blank. My heart can’t-</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Let’s leave.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>It’s not loud. It’s quiet, simple. It sounds so simple. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“</span>
  <em>
    <span>Jane</span>
  </em>
  <span>,” Bull says, covering his face with his hand. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Fuck it. Fuck it all. You don’t owe the Qun shit, I don’t owe anyone but you anything. Let’s leave.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Bull takes a deep, shuddering breath. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I can’t. They’re already watching me-“</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You killed assassins they sent after you in the other timeline. </span>
  <em>
    <span>Fuck them, Bull,</span>
  </em>
  <span>” I say. “The Qun doesn’t care about you, they sent you to Saheron for ten years, then they sent you here. The Inquisitor got the Chargers killed.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You don’t know what you’re asking me, Jane.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>I’m sorry. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“The Chargers wouldn’t want you to die,” I say simply. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>I don’t know what the fuck I’m doing, I feel sick, but running-</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“</span>
  <b>
    <em>Fuck</em>
  </b>
  <span>,” Bull says, getting off the bed. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>I think he’s going to walk out of the room, with the way he’s pulling on his clothes, but then he starts shoving on his armor, and looks at me wide eyed. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Move your ass,” He says harshly. “We need to go now.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Oh shit. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>—</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Cole appears when I ask for him, and I hand him two hastily scribbled notes. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>One for Revis, one for Dorian. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Tell them I’m sorry,” I say, mouth in a firm line. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Cole takes off my gloves and hands them to me. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You will need them,” He says, before throwing a jacket that I’ve never seen in my life over my shoulders. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“If you want to grow, then grow,” I say, laying careful hands on his shoulders. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I think… I would like to know how it would feel,” Cole murmurs. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“We need to move, Jitters,” Bull says impatiently. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I love you, don’t let her fuck up Blackwall,” I say, patting Cole’s shoulders, before walking off with Bull. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“They will not see you if you are not loud,” Cole whispers. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>And then, we were gone. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>—</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Stupidest idea I’ve ever had,” Bull says through gritted teeth. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“</span>
  <em>
    <span>My</span>
  </em>
  <span> stupidest idea, actually,” I say dryly, through chattering teeth. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>At least it’s not a snowstorm. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Escaping at night through the Frostback mountains. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Dumbass. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>—</span>
</p><p>
  <span>We can’t go anywhere within the Inquisition’s immediate reach, and we need to avoid Qunari agents. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Arbor Wilds?” Bull asks. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“No, the Inquisition has their showdown with the Red Templars there,” I say, rubbing my face. “North means Qunari, staying south risks tripping over the Inquisition.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Fuck.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“</span>
  <em>
    <span>Fuck</span>
  </em>
  <span>.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>I’m wracking my brain because I can’t fucking remember shit from the older games. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Are the Free Marches still full of Qunari agents?” I ask. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Yeah.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“</span>
  <em>
    <span>Fuck.</span>
  </em>
  <span>”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“</span>
  <b>
    <em>Fuck.</em>
  </b>
  <span>”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>—</span>
</p><p>
  <span>It’s hard to hide a big ass Qunari man, but we make our way to Brecillian forest. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>It’s vaguely familiar, and with the mention of the weird legends I remember it’s probably the place you deal with werewolves in Origins. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>It’s full of Dalish clans. We don’t have to worry about them being spies. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“This is a terrible idea,” Bull offers, it’s like an inside joke between us now, it’s all a terrible idea. But we’re still on the run. And we still keep moving everyday. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>And I’m still bad at camping. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“That might just be our thing now, Bull,” I say wryly.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>We’re in a small tent hidden from the road, the only shit we own is on our backs, I haven’t taken a bath in a week. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Bull makes his blank face, the one for when he’s trying to forcefully ignore a thought that upset him. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“What?” I ask, gently. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Bull closes his eye. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“The Chargers,” He starts, then stops. “The Chargers would’ve thought this is hilarious.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>I blink, slowly at him. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Yeah. They would. It’s kind of absurd, isn’t it?” I ask. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Somehow we start laughing, but that becomes crying, and then we’re holding each other close. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>It’s all kind of absurd, isn’t it?</span>
</p><p>
  <span>—</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Motherfucking possessed </span>
  <em>
    <span>TREES</span>
  </em>
  <span>!” I shout, jumping out of the way of the angry demon tree. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>I hadn’t accounted for how rifts would impact a place where the veil is already weakened. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“</span>
  <em>
    <span>Good thing I have an axe</span>
  </em>
  <span>,” Bull hisses, cutting it in half in one stroke, bleeding a little on his arms. “Get somewhere where you won’t get hurt, Kadan!”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“We </span>
  <em>
    <span>do not</span>
  </em>
  <span> have the time for emotional revelations!” I shout, ducking behind a rock. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Bull lets out a warcry. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Motherfucker. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>—</span>
</p><p>
  <span>I don’t know shit about tending to wounds. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“If we get some Elfroot, chewing on the leaves should keep me from bleeding out,” Bull says, his arms and a slash on his chest sluggishly bleeding. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Finally, something I can fucking do. The only practical skill Inquisition gave me was finding Elfroot. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>I come back with a bushel of twenty plants in five minutes. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Lavellan does that shit,” Bull says. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>I make a face. “Let’s just say I have the same Elfroot Senses.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Elfroot, apparently, tastes like mint, but super super minty mint. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Bull chews a couple while I try and figure out what the hell we do </span>
  <em>
    <span>now. </span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <span>We need to stay under the radar for at least a two and a half years. Then, the Inquisition will either go to the Divine or get pulled apart. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>If I had stupid fucking magic-</span>
</p><p>
  <span>No. I can’t. Not now. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>I don’t even notice the panic attack come on until I’m hyperventilating on the ground with Bull trying to calm me down. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“</span>
  <em>
    <span>I’m</span>
  </em>
  <span>, </span>
  <em>
    <span>so</span>
  </em>
  <span>, </span>
  <em>
    <span>fucking</span>
  </em>
  <span>, </span>
  <em>
    <span>stupid</span>
  </em>
  <span>,” I gasp through breaths. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Breathe Kadan, </span>
  <em>
    <span>breathe</span>
  </em>
  <span>,” Bull says, hands on my shoulders. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I’m,” I take a deep breath, lightheaded. “</span>
  <em>
    <span>Sorry.</span>
  </em>
  <span>”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>That’s the first time I pass out in Thedas, and it only lasts two minutes. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>When I come to, Bull looks like he’s going to cry, and then I start crying, and then we’re crying again. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Two braincells between us, I swear to fucking god. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>—</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The Dalish clans don’t mess with us, and we don’t mess with them. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“The Spymaster will be familiar with this area,” I say, as we clean up camp in a way that will keep anyone from knowing we were here. “But hopefully, she won’t think to look here.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>I knock on a tree twice, grimacing. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Better than nothing, Kadan. You alright?” Bull asks. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You can’t just call me that, I don’t even have a dragon’s tooth to split with you,” I grumble. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Bull makes his “Jane is talking weird again” face, it’s very distinct, and sighs. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Doesn’t matter. We’re stuck in this together, aren’t we? Fuck everything else?” Bull asks. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>He has a point. A very very good point. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>I rub my sleepy eyes, because my hands need to do something. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Yeah. Fuck everything else, Kadan.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>—</span>
</p><p>
  <span>We both have nightmares. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>It’s a part of the thin veil. Easily annoyed by demons. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>I dream of us getting dragged back to the Inquisition for judgement. I dream of Bull dying. I dream of being tortured by Solas. I dream of Bull leaving. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>My eyes shoot open, and I let out a stifled sob. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Ouch. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Bull is holding me tightly enough that I know he’s awake, and probably had a nightmare too. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I’m sorry, Kadan,” I say, grabbing his big scarred hand and pressing a kiss to it. “What’s got you tonight?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You died,” Bull says stiffly. “You?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Inquisitor was judging us from her throne, but it was worse because she had stupid fucking pity in her eyes,” I grumble. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Bull makes a sound that definitely means he’s not liking the imagery, and holds me closer. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You need to learn how to fight,” Bull says. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>I’ve avoided it for a while. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I’m not gonna get good enough to fight a tree demon, Bull,” I murmur. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“If the Qun or Inquisition sends agents, you need to be able to take them out or hold them off until I can,” Bull says seriously. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>He doesn’t say I can’t lose anyone else. I know it anyways. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Stick them with the pointy end before they can stick me, right?” I ask dryly. Outside, an owl calls. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Funny,” Bull says in a similar tone. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>We’re quiet. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Hey, Bull?” It’s hesitant. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Hm?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I love you.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Bull lets out a shuddering breath. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I love you too, Jane.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>—</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Even here we hear that the Inquisition has left for the Arbor Wilds, thanks to the few merchants who come in every month. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>I let out a relieved breath. Closer. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Well, closer to the clear and even closer to Solas tearing everything apart. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Alright, Kadan?” Bull asks. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Have I told you about Solas?” I ask. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>He shakes his head. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“He’s Fen’heral, the Dalish god. He put up the veil a couple thousand years ago, went to sleep, woke up a year ago, and found the world wanting enough that he’s gonna tear it down again.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Tell me you’re joking.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>I give him a look that says I wish I were. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“</span>
  <b>
    <em>Shit.</em>
  </b>
  <span>”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“If it makes you feel better, someone probably stops him. My knowledge stops two and a half years from now, when the Inquisition either officially disbands or goes under the next Divine’s directive,” I say, looking up through the green haze at the sky. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Doesn’t that mean demons, Kadan?” Bull asks, stiffly, because he wants to be wrong. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“And people get magic.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Bull pointedly doesn’t punch a tree, but he grabs a thick stick and hands it to me. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Hit me.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>I oblige. If any Dalish see us, they mind their fucking business. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>—</span>
</p><p>
  <span>My hair is growing, and that’s a problem because I haven’t made a good setup to make soaps that would make long hair anything but a life magnet. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Can you cut it to my chin, Kadan?” I ask, holding out my knife to Bull. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“With a knife?” Bull asks, lip quirking. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Oh, yes, how silly. Let me just find my gold encrusted scissors in this hellsite of a forest, Bull. </span>
  <em>
    <span>Yes, with the knife.</span>
  </em>
  <span>”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Bull snorts, and I turn my head and let him cut through the black hair that goes down to my shoulders. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>I should feel much more anxious about a knife this close to me, but Bull has had </span>
  <em>
    <span>way</span>
  </em>
  <span> better opportunities to off me. Like when we sleep pressed against each other every night because it’s cold. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Also because we love each other. Apparently that’s a thing people do. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You’re thinking loud again, Kadan,” Bull hums. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Oh, I’ll be quieter next time, Kadan,” I say, feeling weight come off my head with every precise cut he makes through my hair. “I was thinking about how I trust you with a knife near my throat. A great compliment, I’m sure.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Bull chuckles. “Dunno about letting you put one to my throat, with those shaky hands.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“</span>
  <em>
    <span>Oi</span>
  </em>
  <span>,” I hiss, not turning even though I want to. “Hurtful. True, but hurtful.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>I wonder what Dorian is doing right now, then wince. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Bull pauses. “I nick you?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Nope. Just hoping Dorian isn’t dead.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>God, what if he is?</span>
</p><p>
  <span>No. Shut </span>
  <em>
    <span>up</span>
  </em>
  <span> brain. He’s fine, Cole wouldn’t let that happen, the Inquisitor wouldn’t let that happen even if she sacrificed the Chargers for the stupid Qun. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Fuck. I think I might hate her for that, dully. We wouldn’t be in this stupid forest if it weren’t for that, and she’s only getting betrayed in the end. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>At least it isn’t by Bull. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“The Vint? Probably prancing around like usual, no point in worrying about him,” Bull says, and I can hear the roll of his eyes. “He, unlike you, Kadan, can take care of himself.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I’d argue that I can take care of myself, but I try to only lie by omission.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Uh Huh. You’re done, you should probably wash that hair off, I’ll bury the shit on the ground,” Bull says. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>I move my head back and forth, feeling the hair move much more freely with a sigh. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Thanks, Kadan,” I say, turning and pressing a kiss to one of the newer scars on his arm, before walking to the nearby stream a freaked out shout away. We checked. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Turtles get bigger than they should, with the fade closer. Bull laughed at me. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>I pull off my jacket and shirt, shaking them out as much as I can, mostly the jacket, before cupping some water in my hands to get itchy hair off my collarbone. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>I look up and-</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“AGH!” I shout, scrambling backwards. That is a man! That is a hunter elf man!</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He looks very unimpressed, with an arrow loftily pointed at me. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>I hold my hands up, attempting not to have a panic attack. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“What are you doing here, shem?” The man asks. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Not trying to encroach on your camp, if that’s what you think?” I say weakly. “I’ll just, uh, go?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Kadan this better be a tree demon-“</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Uh oh. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“</span>
  <em>
    <span>Shit,</span>
  </em>
  <span>” Suddenly, I’m pulled behind a tall grey wall that’s my Kadan. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Haven’t seen one of your types since the blight,” The hunter elf man says with a trace of disgust. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“</span>
  <em>
    <span>Arishok</span>
  </em>
  <span>,” Bull grumbles. “We’re not here for a fight, back down.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“We’re really not!” I say from behind him. “Please don’t shoot my vhenan? I like him?” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Wow. I sound like a dumbass. Maybe using vhenan will help?</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Bull would probably sigh, if he weren’t trying to talk down a Dalish hunter. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Drop your weapon, ox man, then we talk.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Oh now I’m pissed. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Bull slowly sets down his battleaxe, but moves in a way I’m still hidden behind his back. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I’m gonna stab him if he calls you an ox again, Kadan,” I murmur lowly. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“</span>
  <em>
    <span>Calm</span>
  </em>
  <span>, Kadan,” Bull murmurs back. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Racists, can’t even avoid them in this stupid forest. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I want her in my sight, I don’t trust you,” Dalish Racist says. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“No can do,” Bull says. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Fuck I’m cold. I’m standing in the woods with a bra and pants on. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Fine. I shoot you and then I shoot her. Your choice.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“It’s fine, Bull,” I say, slowly stepping out from behind him with my hands raised. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“</span>
  <b>
    <em>Kadan</em>
  </b>
  <span>,” Bull hisses. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“What, would you prefer you die first and then I have to fight him in a bra and pants?” I ask. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Why are you here?” Dalish Racist asks. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Passing through,” Bull says simply, while I shiver with nerves and the cold. His hands are limp at his sides. He has a knife in both of those spots, hidden in pockets. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“And why should I believe you?” He asks. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Because we haven’t tried to attack you yet,” I state. “And I’m very clearly a non-combatant. If you let us, we can go back to our camp and move away from wherever your clan is.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>My hands are trembling. I chance a glance at Bull, but I’m on his blind side. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Oh. Yeah, that’s probably panicking him. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>The arrow is pointed at me, to keep Bull from doing anything. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Bull’s hand twitches, he’s probably trying to keep from flexing his fingers like when he aches for a fight-</span>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Focus. </span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <span>I’m very very aware of how vulnerable I am. Goosebumps raised on my skin.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Do that, and be aware of who’s lands you tread on, Shem,” Dalish Racist says. “You walk first, Ox, I’m keeping this pointed at her back.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>I’m gonna fuckin kill him. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Don’t, Kadan,” Bull says under his breath after he turns his back. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Can I, uh, put on my clothes?” I ask, smiling weakly. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Grab them and walk, Shem, don’t test my patience,” Dalish Racist says. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Noted. I’m just gonna grab the axe too, since I can’t really. Use it.” I walk slowly to grab my clothes, then fumble a little to grab the axe, but I’m walking away eventually. Thank fuck. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>I feel eyes on my back until we’re finally at camp and I drop into a crouch. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“</span>
  <em>
    <span>Holy fuck.</span>
  </em>
  <span>”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“We need to move, Jane,” Bull says, and a gentle hand is on my shoulder. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I’m. Aware, just, gimme a second,” I say through box breathing, taking deep breaths. “Take your axe.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>We don’t sleep that night, after we move. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>—</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Bull pulls keening pleasure with gentle, warm fingers, and I’m left breathless and laughing. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You don’t have to give so much,” I mumble, hands far above my head. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Bull presses a kiss to my hip. “This is what I need, let me give you what you need, Kadan.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>It doesn’t feel fair, to me, but I’m not him, so I don’t know what he wants. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Well,” I say with a small grin, pretending we’re not in a small tent in the middle of the woods. “I </span>
  <em>
    <span>need</span>
  </em>
  <span> your head between my thighs, please.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The please is a cheeky afterthought. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Bull grins. “Moan for me, Jitters.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>I do, but it’s mixed with laughter and wondering, hoping this doesn’t end in more tragedy. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>—</span>
</p><p>
  <span>I’m the one who goes to trade with the merchants, not Bull. From a tactical standpoint I’m much less recognizable to a big Qunari man with bull horns. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“The Inquisitor is in the Frostback basin,” The grizzled man who sells soap and salt says. “Here’s to hoping she comes here next and closes those few rifts, eh?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>I hum in careful agreement, even if I hope she never comes here. I hand over the few rolled up pelts and small jars of spider ichor over for salt and soap and ferelden ale. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>I wonder how soon Corypheus gets done in. Probably after the basin. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I hear she’s still sending people out looking for that Qunari. Wonder how often the Inquisitor is going to lose track of people or if this is two coincidences,” Grizzled man keeps talking. I respect his gossip game. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“The other one was the Warden, right? What happened to him?” I ask, shoving my new shit in my bag. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Took him right back in, course, dunno what she’s gonna do with an alliance to the Qun. Messy business for these rulers, having friends.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>I hum in agreement. “What’s the date, by the way?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Eighteenth of Drakonis, last I checked. You don’t need the year, do you?” Grizzled man asks, dryly. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Humor me,” I say in a similar tone. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“9:42, Dragon,” Grizzled says. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Thought as much. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>With a wave, I’m gone. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>—</span>
</p><p>
  <span>My muscles aren’t a fan of my whole learning to fight thing. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“</span>
  <em>
    <span>Focus</span>
  </em>
  <span>, Kadan,” Bull says.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>I feint on his blindside and go low, aiming for his side. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Bull grabs my wrist and twists the knife out of my hand, I aim to stomp his groin, he lifts me off my feet and all I hit is air. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>My eyes narrow, and I pull myself far enough up to bite his hand. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Instead of dropping me I’m pushed to the ground, letting out a small </span>
  <em>
    <span>oof</span>
  </em>
  <span> when I hit it. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You’re vicious, at least,” Bull grumbles, and I release his hand, going wide eyed when I see blood. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Oh, shit, sorry, Kadan,” I say before I can stop myself. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I’ve gotten hurt worse in bed, Kadan,” Bull says with a sigh, letting go of my wrist. “You alright?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>I shrug, all too aware of the leaves and grass under me. “Please tell me some of that would’ve worked on someone who hadn’t been to Saheron?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Maybe,” Bull says. “But the Inquisition is still trained good, Kadan. Especially if the Inquisitor comes calling.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>I blanch. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“The whole point of running was because you </span>
  <em>
    <span>couldn’t </span>
  </em>
  <span>beat the Inquisitor, Bull.” I get up from my lying position, rolling my shoulders. “Especially if Solas is with her.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>It’s almost Corypheus’s time. I can just feel it, and the second he goes, we don’t have to deal with Solas either, outside of accidental thematic meetings I hope never come. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“If the Inquisitor comes, you run,” I decide, quickly. “With our luck, she’d give you to the Qun. She won’t recognize me, and if she has Dorian, Cole or Varric, she probably won’t get to know.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Bull looks very against that idea. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“</span>
  <em>
    <span>No</span>
  </em>
  <span>, Kadan,” Bull says. “If I lose you-“</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He closes his eye. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I can’t. I won’t.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>I make a face. “So, what, we get dragged back together? That’ll be great for one of Varric’s books. The Servant and the Tal’Vashoth, kneeling side by side in front of the Inquisitor’s throne, sharing a loving look, and waiting for their fate,” I hiss. “The whole point of this was for you to </span>
  <em>
    <span>live</span>
  </em>
  <span>, Bull!”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I don’t want to live alone,” Bull says, too calm for it to be anything but insecurity at the admission. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>I close my mouth and close my eyes, before taking a deep, shuddering breath. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I don’t either,” I say. “I love you, Bull, I love you so much, and I don’t want to lose you because then it’ll be </span>
  <em>
    <span>my</span>
  </em>
  <span> fault.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Everything we’ve done is because I chose to change things. Every mistake from here is my fault, directly or indirectly. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>A warm hand presses to my cheek, fingers curling up into my short hair. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Whatever happens, as long as I got this far, I don’t care,” Bull says. “I don’t want to die, but after the Chargers-“</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He takes a deep breath, and I open my eyes. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I can’t. I won’t let someone else decide who I care about lives and dies.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>I hug Bull.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Vulnerability. It feels gross, but. I’m glad. And terrified. But I’m always afraid. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>—</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The Inquisitor kills Corypheus. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Apparently, unfortunately for us, she’s headed in this direction now, since it’s been a month since then and break time is over. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“We could… hide?” I ask. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Kadan, this entire time has been hiding.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Fair enough.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>We go deeper into the forest. Deep enough that we know our way out, and aren’t near any rifts. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>—</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Really, Vivienne, I’m certain there’s something to be done about the green hue of death.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Oh god. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Ah, are you scared, Darling? Are you in need of a fainting couch? Because I am afraid we are out of them, at this very moment.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“The more you both talk, the more worried I am we attract the tree demons.”</span>
</p><p>
  <b>
    <em>Oh god. </em>
  </b>
</p><p>
  <span>Why are they here??</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Bull and I share a look, and both decide at the same time that this is our fate and we’re going to </span>
  <em>
    <span>die-</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <span>Oh. No. We’re ducking behind a statue of Fen’heral. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>This is why Bull is the smart one. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“There’s one of those artifacts somewhere around here…” A female voice that is most likely Lavellan says. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Could you not have told the Dalish Keeper, </span>
  <em>
    <span>no</span>
  </em>
  <span>, Inquisitor?” Vivienne asks, because I know Vivienne’s voice. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Of course not, where would we be if I wasn’t so nosy and helpful, Vivienne?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Helpful like getting the </span>
  <em>
    <span>Chargers killed. </span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <span>Bull puts a hand over my mouth, because he knows me. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“</span>
  <em>
    <span>A heavy breath, I won’t hurt you, Jane</span>
  </em>
  <span>.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>MOTHERFUCKER- COLE!!</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Bull holds me close because the alternative is death. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“What?” Dorian asks quickly. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I’m sorry, I- it’s too close, I shouldn’t have said it,” Cole apologizes, likely to Bull and I. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“What is it?” Lavellan asks, attentive to Cole’s sudden anxiety apparently. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Nothing, Inquisitor. Bad memories.” Oh Dorian you dear. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Vivienne says nothing, which is very nice of her considering our debates usually ended with me “winning”, though who really wins arguing with Madame De Fer?</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The Inquisitor eventually moves on, apparently still on the hunt for an artifact, and I let out a shaky breath. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Dorian is a fucking real one,” I grumble.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>—</span>
</p><p>
  <span>I’m not surprised when Dorian comes back to that spot that night, attempting to not look suspicious. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Altus Pavus, where is your coat?” I ask, stepping out from behind the statue. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>His face lights up. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You’re dressed worse than Solas,” he says in greeting, face bright. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>I hug him, he lets out a little </span>
  <em>
    <span>oof</span>
  </em>
  <span>, but pats my back. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You have no clue the drama you caused when you ran away with your illicit Qunari lover, Jane,” Dorian says, teasing. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I wasn’t leaving him there, the Inquisition would destroy him,” I say simply, pulling back and checking him over. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“If it is any consolation, the Inquisitor still regrets what happened to the Chargers,” Dorian says, smile getting less bright. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“If it’s any consolation, I don’t forgive her,” I say frankly. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Dorian nods, because Dorian understands, even if he plays the vain peacock. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“How you been hiding out in these woods?” Dorian asks. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>I nod. “We needed to get somewhere outside the Inquisition and Qun’s reach. The only other place was Tevinter, and I’m not touching them with a seven foot pole, no offense.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“None taken, you would not have been any safer there,” Dorian says. “Did you cut your hair with a </span>
  <em>
    <span>knife?</span>
  </em>
  <span>”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Where do you see a pair of scissors, Dorian? Perhaps under a tree stump?” I ask sarcastically. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Dorian looks absolutely horrified with the idea of willingly roughing it in the green tinted Forrest with possessed trees and animals. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I’m taking you back to Tevinter with me,” Dorian decides. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>I make a face. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“They would eat me alive, let alone the fact you’re bringing a Tal’Vashoth into the country,” I say. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Well, it’s a good thing I am already a known pariah, and am bringing back my lowborn Elven lover already,” Dorian says dryly. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>I blink in surprise. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Oh! Who? Do I know them?” I ask. Guess I changed more than I thought?</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I believe you know him quite well, actually. Revis?” Dorian asks, smirking. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Oh!!</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Oh that’s adorable.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Wait, shit, </span>
  <em>
    <span>focus. </span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <span>“Wait, no, how are you smuggling us into Tevinter? You’re still apart of the Inquisition,” I say, frowning. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“This is my last outing with the Inquisitor,” Dorian says, eyes alight with ideas, which is terrifying from one of the men who figured out time travel. “Once we leave, I will have my things sent along to Minrathus, then Revis and I will come for you both.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Well. I’ve had stupider ideas. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>—</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You really trust the Vint?” Bull asks while we hang around this statue. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Yes, and failing that, I trust Revis,” I say, twirling a small stick between my fingers. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“And if he’s still working for the Spymaster?” Bull asks. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Then he’s still working for her. Dorian has likely already revealed our location to him, and if he’s compromised he’s likely already told Leliana,” I say with a shrug. “Might as well take this chance.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>I can’t just let being scared stop me at this point. Not now. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Even if my hands shake. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Kadan?” Bull asks. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Yeah?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I love you.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I love you too, Kadan.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>—</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I had no clue he was </span>
  <em>
    <span>that</span>
  </em>
  <span> good of a fuck.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>I snap my head to the voice and take a running start, hugging Revis. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Ow, yes, I love you too, Jane,” Revis grumbles. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Well, good to see you’re still mostly intact,” Dorian comments. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You too, Pavus.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>—</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Safety is built with bare bloody hands that still can’t grow any callus. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Safety is relative, when Dorian leaves for the Winter Palace and Bull and I share a look, following him with packed bags because we have to keep him safe from Qunari and Solas.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Safety is stepping through gilded gates and making eye contact with Varric Tethras, who looks like he’s just got Christmas come early. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Safety is a choice. Especially when the Inquisitor walks up with wide eyes on Bull and asks for forgiveness. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>I’m scared. I’m scared when I chose to walk into an Eluvian with Bull, Dorian, Vivienne, and the Inquisitor and fucking ice starts freezing my knives in my hands because apparently being this close to the Fade can do that to me. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Us first, fuck everything else,” I hiss before we meet the first of the Qunari. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Us first, fuck everything else, Kadan,” Bull says. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>None of it is actually safe, the repetition is a literary device to pretend everything is fine. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Bull doesn’t try to kill the Inquisitor, and when Inquisitor Lavellan goes for her final confrontation with Solas, I slip through after her, because someone is going to have to drag her back through the portal when she goes amputee. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>And she does, as I hang around stone Qunari I hear bits and pieces of their murmured conversation that plays out like the final beat of a tragedy. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>I climb up to her, and jump out of my skin when I see Solas </span>
  <em>
    <span>looking at me. </span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <span>“Fen'harel,” I say weakly. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You have always known, haven’t you?” Solas asks, head tilted to the side. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I’m a bad liar,” I state, crouching down through my anxiety to throw the limp Inquisitor’s last arm over my shoulder. “You should’ve-“</span>
</p><p>
  <span>I take a deep shaky breath, trying for courage. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You should’ve told her everything, that night.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Solas’s eyes narrow, and I half expect to get turned to stone. Shutting my eyes and tensing. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“How do you know of these things? You are human, and yet you feel like those from before the veil,” Solas says. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>I </span>
  <em>
    <span>what??</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <span>“Er. Why should I tell you?” I ask, voice shaking when I open my eyes. “You’re going to destroy this world anew for something that can never truly return, reawaken imprisoned mage gods in their full element. I don’t-“</span>
</p><p>
  <span>I take a breath. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I don’t owe you </span>
  <em>
    <span>shit</span>
  </em>
  <span>.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Solas looks very displeased by this. The Inquisitor or someone who was actually close to him could probably get away with saying it, but. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>I’m just the world’s worst MGIT. I never befriended him. I never endeared myself to him. He could kill me if he’d like. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“It is unfortunate I was not able to catch you before I left the Inquisition,” Solas says clinically. “In the very least, you did not spoil my plans. Live in comfort before the end.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He turns, and I watch him go. Set on his fate to destroy everything and die alone. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>I open my mouth to say something, convince him of otherwise, but shut it. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>I stand, holding Lavellan up, and watch him turn to look back, just a little. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Egg,” I grumble. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>At least Bull lived.</span>
</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>i am terrified for your reactions :)</p></blockquote></div></div>
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